


(No) Collide

by PCrabapple



Series: Touch for Gordon? [1]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life but the AI is Self-Aware
Genre: Fluff, Heartbeats, Hugs, Lap Sitting, M/M, Touch-Starved, Touching, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26447869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PCrabapple/pseuds/PCrabapple
Summary: Can't really feel things while wearing the HEV suit. Unless someone can noclip through it?
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: Touch for Gordon? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922557
Comments: 18
Kudos: 405





	(No) Collide

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't actually above Teen, but I'm marking it as Mature because the series is going to go to Mature and Explicit places. Hopefully I can realize the whole plan.

“Touch me again Gordon, and I’ll set your ass on fire,” Bubby growls.

“Oh...yeah. S-sorry.” Gordon immediately removes his hand from Bubby’s back. He’d been trying to encourage Bubby and the rest of them to check out the break room they’d come across, just a gentle, friendly push in the direction he wanted him to go.

“You’d better be.”

“I uh...don’t usually do that kind of thing…touching people without permission,” Gordon defended. He’d been doing a lot more of it lately, though. Putting a hand on Coomer’s shoulder, taking Tommy’s arm to direct his attention somewhere. Grabbing Benrey’s shirt to get him to fucking listen for once.

“Well don’t fucking start with me.” Bubby apparently wants no part of it, and puts a few feet between himself and Gordon as they enter the breakroom. It’s mercifully unoccupied by any aliens or deadly environmental hazards.

“I won’t. Point taken.” 

“I don’t mind, Mr. Freeman. If you uh...need to touch someone. I’m okay with it.” Tommy says, making a beeline for the vending machine in the corner.

"You can always count on a hug from me, Gordon! If you can stand the crushing pressure of my biceps!" Dr. Coomer assures.

“Ok...thanks guys” Gordon says. This is getting uncomfortable.

“Why would he need to touch someone? Bit creepy.” Benrey mutters as he files into the room and perches on one of the tables. 

“Most people partake in physical intimacy,” Coomer begins, ”which is a natural part of interpersonal relationships and[ human sexuality ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_sexuality) , and research has shown it has health benefits. A hug or touch can result in the release of [ oxytocin ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oxytocin) hormone and in a reduction in stress [ hormones. ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hormone) [ [3] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Physical_intimacy#cite_note-3)”

“Ugh.” Gordon does not want to get into this discussion with the whole group. Or, any of them, really.

He’s never really thought of himself as a touchy-feely kind of guy. He does handshakes, of course. He’s been known to give a bearhug or two when they make a breakthrough in a precarious experiment. He isn’t bothered by sitting shoulder to shoulder with colleagues on mornings when the tram into Black Mesa is packed. It wasn’t something he’d thought about a lot. Gordon figured he could take or leave human contact in general.

That was before he was trapped in the HEV suit for far too long. The armor has saved his life on countless occasions, lets him wade through toxic waste without worrying about the lasting effects, and allows him to keep going when his muscles are exhausted. The suit is extremely necessary, and he’s glad he has it while the entire Black Mesa facility slowly implodes around them.

The drawback is that it blunts everything. He can’t make out the texture of things with his fingertips. There’s always the layer of heavy-duty glove material between him and anything he tries to touch, and a much thicker layer between the rest of his body and anything that tries to touch him. It’s not like he _needs_ to touch and sense everything. But...

There are things he misses that he never knew existed in the first place. Just small, human things, signs of life. The brush of fingers against his as he’s handed a cup of coffee. The heat of other bodies around him in a crowded elevator. The weight of someone leaning over him to grab something off the shelf behind the computer he’s sitting at. He’d taken these things for granted and now he deeply craves them.

He’s noticed how he’s started to make physical contact with the other members of The Science Team a little more than necessary, searching for some kind of human connection. He doesn’t feel more than a bit of pressure when he puts his hand on a shoulder, but it’s almost comforting to chase that paltry bit of relief. He is isolated, even when he’s talking face to face with them, locked away inside the suit, unable to fully connect.

Apparently they’ve noticed too, and it’s becoming a problem, at least for Bubby.

“Due to the important role that language-based communication plays in humans, the role of touch is often downplayed, however there is ample evidence that physical touch still plays an important role in everyday human relationships. While humans often communicate verbally, they also participate in close contact. Physical touch has emotional and social connotations that often far outweigh anything that can be expressed via language.[ [4] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Physical_intimacy#cite_note-4)” Coomer concludes.

Gordon coughs awkwardly. “Yeah, thanks Dr. Coomer. Pretty much...that. Anyway, it’s not really working, so I’ll try not to do it. The HEV suit sort of blocks any skin-to-skin oxytocin shit.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Tommy says.

“It’s fine. It’s not a big deal. I’ll be okay once I can get out of this fucking thing.” 

“I could touch you.” Benrey says. 

“What?” Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose, kneading at the dents made by his glasses.

“I got that uhh… noclip cheat code. Check it out.” He hops off the table and walks over to the vending machine, and sticks his hand right through the plastic cover.

“Oh…” Gordon watches with interest, his mind working over the possibilities. “Can you do that for me? Make me be able to touch stuff through the suit?”

“No, I don’t have those uh… admin privileges. Can only do it for myself and stuff I own.” Benrey starts to pull his hand back out. There’s a clanging inside the machine as his arm seems to be stuck. “Can’t make the machine and the Pepsi not touch each other. Kinda bullshit if you ask me.” He lets go of the can inside the machine and removes his arm. “But like, my skin could touch your skin. If you ask me nicely.”

Gordon scowls at Benrey, aware of the eyes of The Science Team on him. “No. If it’s _you_ , I’ll just wait till we get the hell out of here.” He hears the cruelty in his voice and regrets it a little. Benrey might actually be trying to help him for once. But he’s not going to go back on it. Not in front of everyone else, at any rate.

Benrey shrugs, “Whatever.”

Once they’ve shot open the soda machine and Gordon is subjected to the truly mind-breaking sounds of The Science Team devouring the soft drinks within, the room holds no more interest. It’s time to move on.

“Hey… you guys go on, I just wanna hang out for a minute. But don’t leave the area. Maybe we’ll stay here for the night, okay?” Gordon says, sitting on the ratty plaid couch. It provides little comfort, the HEV suit’s leg and back armor preventing him from perceiving the plushness of the worn material.

The Team disperses, but before Benrey can leave Gordon calls out to him. “Benrey, wait a minute.”

“Huh?” Benrey turns to face him. “Change your mind? Want me to slide into your Hev suit?”

“I...shut up. Yes, I guess so. Don’t make it fucking weird.”

“Okay,” Benrey removes his helmet and places it on the table, then starts to undo his vest.

“Wh-what are you doing? What did I just say?” Gordon asks, the pitch of his voice rising.

“ _You’re_ making it weird now,” Benrey rolls his eyes. “It’s easier if I have uhh, less stuff on to work with. Don’t worry, it’s not gay if I keep my shirt and pants on.”  
  
Gordon groans and stands up, walking over to Benrey. “Okay, let’s do it.” He holds out a hand for...something. He honestly has no idea what to expect.

“Hang on I gotta um...like…configure first,” Benrey gestures to Gordon, to himself, and then Gordon again. “Gotta make sure it’s just me and the suit that aren’t touching. Don’t wanna... jam my hand through your chest too, y’know?”

“I...guess?” Gordon replies, still not really grasping the concept.

“Just shut up a second. And don’t move.”

The image of Benrey's arm plunged into his chest is highly disturbing, so Gordon complies. He watches warily as Benrey stares at him. Or, more precisely, seems to stare at Gordon’s shoulder. He shifts to look at his own hands for a little bit, then at his sleeve. Gordon is about to tell him to forget it, if Benrey is just going to fuck with him like this, he has better things to do. But Benrey looks up, directly at him now.

“Nice. It’s done. I think.” 

“You think?” Gordon had expected something...noticeable. A weird sound, or maybe Benrey would shimmer out of reality for a moment and back in. But nothing seems to be different. Of course nothing had happened with the soda machine either.

“Only one way to know.” Benrey holds out a hand.

Gordon hesitates. Is it safe? Probably not. The suit is supposed to protect him from unusual, anomalous threats and circumstances. And Benrey is definitely at least one of those things. But is he willing to put his bodily well-being at risk to get a little skin-to-skin contact? It would seem so.

Gordon takes Benrey’s hand. He lets out a soft breath as Benrey’s palm phases through the glove of the HEV suit and makes contact with Gordon’s. It’s warm. Warm and soft with a few calluses and he can _feel_ it. 

“Uh, hello… Nice to meet you... Welcome.” Benrey says, shaking Gordon’s hand with the stilted, uncanny awkwardness of someone who hasn’t actually given a handshake more than once. Like he learned it from a video and never actually put it into practice. 

Gordon can’t find the capacity to criticize him, or say anything really. He just enjoys the pulse of Benrey’s wrist against his index finger, drinking in the heat and skin and pressure. Until Benrey starts to let go.

“Wait!” Gordon says, reflexively gripping Benrey’s hand tighter. He wants to stay like that, to savor the ridges of Benrey’s fingerprints scraping against his own. “I mean. Uh… do you think we could do some more?” He reluctantly lets Benrey go. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s holding him hostage or something. But he aches with the absence of the contact. It’s embarrassing how much he enjoyed such a small, insignificant gesture.

“More?” Benrey pulls his bottom lip into his mouth thoughtfully. It pops back out with a smack. “Like... what more?”

Gordon falters. He hadn’t thought about that. Nothing specific. He just wants _more_. “I dunno…” He casts his mind around, trying to think of socially acceptable ways people touch each other. “Um...maybe, put your hand on my shoulder?”

“Like this?” Benrey reaches over and sets his fingertips on top Gordon’s shoulder, sliding right through the accordioned rubber like it’s a hologram. There’s living warmth on Gordon’s skin again, but it’s still awkward and stiff, and not nearly enough contact.

“No, god, what is with you?” Gordon asks, huffing in exasperation, “Like I’ve done it to you. Y’know like...” He puts his hand over Benrey’s shoulder, and unlike before when he felt no warmth, no difference other than a bit of pressure, it’s like the glove encasing his hand isn’t even there. He’s gripping Benrey’s shoulder, heat bleeding through the fabric of his shirt into Gordon’s hand. It works both ways, he thinks, then realizes that of course it does. 

Benrey’s hand closes around Gordon’s shoulder to mimic him. Now his grip is warm and strong. Gordon is wearing a tank top under the suit, which is apparently not part of this clipping business, but Benrey brushes it aside so it’s just his palm wrapped over Gordon’s bare skin. “This better?” he asks.

They must look very strange, standing arms length apart, clasping each other’s shoulders, Gordon looking astonished and Benrey looking nonplussed and mildly amused.

Gordon nods, speechless, amazed that something so simple can feel so good. He kneads his hand gently against Benrey’s shoulder, soaking in the texture of the material, the temperature and solidness of the presence underneath. 

"You like my shirt of somethin’?” Benrey asks after heavy silence, in which Gordon has taken to rubbing a fold in Benrey’s shirt between his thumb and forefinger.

“Y-yeah...I guess,” Gordon says, letting go, suddenly self conscious. Again, he misses the sensation, the heat, the nearness.

“What’s next?” Benrey asks, hand sliding off of Gordon’s shoulder in a way that makes Gordon shudder involuntarily. “Hug?” Benrey holds his arms apart, a little too high up to look natural.

“Uh…” Gordon would be lying if he said he doesn’t want a hug. But with how much a little hand shaking and shoulder grasping had done to him, he’s afraid a full-on embrace will be too much. Plus, he doesn’t want to hug _Benrey_ of all people. And yet Benrey standing with his arms outstretched in the most bizarre fashion has a magnetic effect. A tug that urges him forward, to close the distance.

He steps up close and Benrey sort of drapes his arms over Gordon’s shoulders. This, too, seems foreign to the other man. Gordon should have seen it coming.

"Have you...ever given a hug before?"

"Whu-? Have you?" Benrey replies quickly, defensive. 

"Yes. Here, like this." Gordon takes hold of Benrey's arms, unable to resist lingering longer than necessary, relishing the smoothness of the insides of his wrists against his thumbs, the coarseness of the hair on the outsides against his fingers. He directs Benrey, guiding one hand over his shoulder and the other under his arm and around his back. Then he mirrors him, slotting against his body. 

They're chest to chest now, Benrey sinking through the breastplate of the HEV suit to press directly against Gordon. Through the explosion of body heat suddenly inundating his entire front, Gordon realizes he’s basically hugging Benrey in his underwear. His tank top and boxer briefs are the only clothing he has from Benrey’s sensory perspective. At least Benrey’s outfit is still corporeal.

"Yo uhh, this kinda rules…" Benrey mutters, very close to Gordon’s ear. 

"Yeah it's...pretty good," Gordon can't help but agree. It’s so warm, so tight. He can feel Benrey, he can feel Benrey feeling him, squeezing him, holding him. His heart beats so close to Gordon’s, their asynchronous pulses slightly mesmerizing. Gordon’s fingers roam along Benrey’s back, exploring the different textures of Benrey’s shirt, his spine, tentatively creeping up to the nape of his neck. 

Benrey’s movements copy his, hands roaming around his shoulder blades. Gordon supposes that for all Benrey knows, this sort of exploratory motion is normal hugging procedure. Each new place his hands find is a place Gordon hasn’t had contact in what feels like weeks. It’s so amazing to touch, to be touched by someone else. How could he have gone without it for so long?

All at once it’s too much and Gordon jerks back, breaking free of Benrey’s hold. He covers his mouth with a hand, overstimulated, moisture leaping to his eyes and threatening to further humiliate him. His fingers sense nothing, and though he’d gotten used to it over the course of his imprisonment in the suit, it’s strange to not even perceive the prickliness of his beard after he’d been able to feel so much of Benrey... 

“Did I mess up? Whoops.” Benrey still has his arms out, an empty shell Gordon had been formerly encased in. He looks nervous, apologetic.

“N...no you did fine. It’s just…uh...I guess it’s a lot for me to deal with after so long…” Gordon closes his eyes, forcing back the tears and moving his hand back to his side.

“Hasn’t been that long, has it…?” Benrey slowly lowers his arms, accepting that the hug is over.

“It...I guess maybe it’s different for...humans,” Gordon says, hesitant to voice the reality of the difference between them, as obvious as it is. 

“Sooo, you tapping out? Too much touch for little Freeman’s fragile body?” Benrey leans against the table and looks intently at the broken vending machine behind Gordon. 

“Um...I...no, I can keep going, I just…” Gordon’s thoughts are slow and halted, like his brain is rebooting. He takes a few long, slow breaths. Benrey’s gaze drifts back to him. “Okay. I’m fine. Can I… uh…” His face is heating up. This is so strange. “Can I just touch you a little bit?”

Benrey raises his eyebrows.

“Not like-!” Gordon huffs. “Not anything weird. I mean. This is kind of weird, yeah but… just… It feels good to be able to...feel things, with my hands. And if you’re the only thing I can feel…”

Benrey smirks and nods, “Yeah okay. Quit babbling. You’re embarrassing yourself. Embarrassing both of us.” Benrey steps past Gordon and sits down on the threadbare couch. “Let’s go.” He pats his thigh.

“Wh- what?” Gordon stares at him. 

“Uh, I dunno. Don’t you miss like... sitting on stuff and feeling it under your ass?” Benrey throws his hands up and looks off. “Nevermind, forget it, just, do what you’re gonna do.”

“I...well, wait, I mean...actually.” Gordon stammers. His face is burning. “You...have a point. Can I?”

“Yes, what was I just saying?” Benrey lolls his head back in exasperation. “This is a thing people do right? I’ve seen it somewhere.”

Gordon wonders where. The only things he can think of are porn or maybe some kind of Santa Claus-related media. This is neither, but he finds himself plopping as gently as he can onto Benrey’s lap, side-saddling his legs.

And yeah, it is quite pleasant. The hard metal of the leg armor passes right through the tops of Benrey’s thighs. And now they’re pressed up against the backs of Gordon’s. Warm and soft and pillowy. It’s such a comfort to feel something different, and something so nice, at that. Gordon is in danger of being overcome again. He puts his hands on Benrey’s shoulders, trying to ground himself, which of course just gives him more sensory input.

“Oh...oh shit… I-” Gordon’s head swims, fingers clutching hard at Benrey. Benrey puts his hands on Gordon’s sides to anchor him. Gordon twitches at the contact of fingers on his sensitive ribs, gives a quiet whine. “Oh my god…”

“It’s uhh...it’s okay.” Benrey says softly. He tightens his grip and it’s better, no longer ticklish. “You’re good.”

Gordon isn’t sure about that, honestly. He takes a huge breath and nods anyway. “Just, give me a second.” He tries to focus on each point of contact individually, acknowledging the pressure against his ass and thighs, making peace with it. Then the hands on his ribs, examining the sensation until it’s no longer too much. Finally his own hands on Benrey, the soft texture of his much-washed shirt, the temperature and firmness of the flesh beneath. 

Benrey is watching him, curious and quiet, not moving a muscle until Gordon nods. He takes his hands away now that Gordon can sit up by himself, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. It’s a relief, less to deal with, even if Gordon already misses it. This is supposed to be about touching Benrey anyway.

Gordon moves to fondle the hard plastic buttons on the front of Benrey’s shirt. He smooths the pads of his fingers along the silky consistency of his tie. Catches his fingernails on the stitching on the shirt collar. 

He starts to reach for Benrey’s neck and stops.

“Go for it, see if I care,” Benrey says with a shrug of unconvincing indifference. Gordon continues.

He’d touched Benrey’s hands, but this is a different type of skin. It’s velvety with tiny, fine hairs. There’s a hint of perspiration, and of course the heat, the blood rushing beneath the surface, throbbing out Benrey’s heartbeat. Gordon puts his other hand on Benrey’s chest and closes his eyes, matching the two pulse points. It’s relaxing in a way that counting to ten and deep breathing hasn’t been cutting it since this whole fucking thing started.

Gordon’s breath subconsciously falls in step with the rise and fall of Benrey’s chest. Eyes still closed, he moves his fingers up to brush at the hair on the back of Benrey’s head. It’s soft and a little damp with sweat from the helmet. Gordon could sit here and roll each individual hair through his fingers one by one, just for the novelty of being able to perceive something new. 

There’s a hand on his own chest now, and Gordon’s eyes fly open as he jolts in surprise.

“What, you’re the only one that gets to poke around? How bout some reci...uh…reciprocity?” Benrey is giving him something approximating puppy-dog eyes.

“I...yeah, go ahead I guess.” After all, others touching him is half of what he misses, and he’s a little more desensitized to it now, less likely to be overstimulated. Plus, this seems like a novelty for Benrey too. Who is Gordon to deny him?

“Cool.” Benrey splays his hand over Gordon’s sternum, pressing against the thumping of his heart through the thin cotton of the undershirt. It does look a bit like he’s got his arm through Gordon’s chest now, hand no longer visible behind the HEV’s thick breastplate. Gordon finds he doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind any of this really. 

“I’m just…” Gordon starts to turn, and when Benrey begins to pull his hand away Gordon takes his wrist and holds it in place as he sits with his back against Benrey now. “Gonna sit like this a while.”

“‘Kay.” Benrey says behind him, breath on the back of his neck. Gordon notices it doesn’t extend to the skin under the collar of the HEV suit. Breath is not included in the parts of Benrey that can phase through the suit. That’s interesting, he thinks vaguely.

Everything he’s thinking is becoming rather fuzzy as his eyes drift closed again.

There’s soft heat behind and under him, Benrey’s hand on his heart. Benrey’s heart is beating against Gordon’s back. Another hand is on top of his thigh, he realizes, sort of holding him down. But not in a bad way, he thinks. In a grounding, steadying way. This is good. Even if it’s Benrey, who sucks and is awful, this is good, Gordon thinks.

Benrey can be good, he thinks. 

Then he’s not thinking anything at all.

* * *

He wakes to Bubby telling them they needed to get a fucking move on. In his haste to leap out of Benrey’s lap and recover his dignity, Gordon rushes out of the room without thanking Benrey properly, like he definitely meant to. It’s fine. Not a big deal. Just a bit of intimate human-to-not-human contact between sort-of colleagues. It was hardly anything. 

Still, as they continue through the complex, as Gordon readjusts to the sensory deprivation of the suit, he wonders if Benrey would be open to doing it again sometime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the horny hlvrai discord for beta and everything else!


End file.
